Trust Me
by Lavender Mansworth
Summary: Postschism, peace seems to be instated, but Violet goes through a series of shifting stages in her recovery from the past. VioletQuigley, later VioletDuncan. Actual chapters[!] Check it out.
1. Prologue

_A distinct crash sounded from across the ballroom. A bottle of wine had been tossed to the ground and its contents were now bleeding red across the marble tiles. Olaf stood up, and the Baudelaire's knew that this was the moment. Violet's breath caught in her throat and Sunny's grip on her hand tightened._

_Olaf roughly pushed his chair back from the long table, causing the occupants of it that weren't his accomplices to glare reprovingly. He strode down the steps to the main floor where many people were still dancing to the orchestra, who didn't miss a beat, but furrowed their eyebrows as he staggered across the floor, his face a mask of malevolence and determination- rarely a positive combination on anyone. _

_Klaus subtly motioned for his sister's to follow him, and they moved casually to the right, as though headed to the coatroom. However, people were beginning to stare as they realized that Olaf's eyes were glued to the children. The Baudelaire's stopped moving; preferring instead to act as though they were unaware of the fact that an irate looking man was headed their way. "Maybe someone will stop him, or at least hinder him," whispered Klaus nonchalantly into his sister's ear._

_Violet nodded slowly. "I doubt they'll want to keep someone like that at their party, disturbing the guests. But maybe they don't want to cause a scene... If they just think he's some drunk guest, they may let it go if they think he'll cause a spectacle." Violet picked up Sunny, who she could feel shaking slightly, and went back to trying to look unconcerned._

_The stiff material of her formal gown was itching as she tried to keep from fidgeting that might give away their insouciance. It seemed that Sunny, too, was becoming restless; as she occasionally toyed with the sleeves of her own dress and couldn't seem to keep still. "Door?" Sunny whispered to Violet._

"_Good idea," she replied. "Klaus, let's move towards the door at the other end of the ballroom so that we can exit quickly if we need to."_

"_Wait," said Klaus, puting a hand on his sister's arm, "we might not need to." He pointed to a stern-looking waiter who was headed towards Olaf, presumably to reprimand him, or more favorably, to have him removed from the ballroom._

_However, they never got the chance to see what the waiter's intentions were, because at that moment, Olaf pulled an ivory-handled pistol from his jacket and held it into the air. Screams were heard from around the ballroom and any people that had been crowding him, backed up to form a terrified cluster far away enough that they felt safe. The waiter paused, his mouth still open, but obvious fear permeating every noble intention he'd ever had. No one else made a sound as Olaf stepped towards the Baudelaire's and this time, no one dared to stop him. A sickening smile twisted its way onto his lips, and the children were close enough now to see the maniacal glint in his eyes, more vibrant than ever before._

_Klaus, Sunny, and Violet backed up with every step he took towards them, not knowing what else they could do. They all knew that if Olaf really meant to kill them, which he certainly appeared to be attempting, then there was little they could do to stop him. The children stopped moving as they hit a window sill and did the only thing that they could think to be of any false bravery: they stared straight back into those black pits of eyes that glinted like mica but extended forever into nothingness._

_"Hello, orphans," he whispered, spit flying unnoticed from his mouth. He sounded somehow weaker, yet more determined than they had ever seen him. "I've come to settle some unfinished business. In the way I best saw fit." _

_He raised the pistol, surprisingly quickly and pointed so that it jabbed at Sunny's arm. Violet felt a clammy palm slip into her own, and she squeezed her brother's hand tight, for what she expected to be the last time. Tears gathered in her eyes as she felt her baby sister shake in her arms, and Klaus's hand squeeze tighter and tighter. For what felt like the billionth time, she felt that she had ultimately betrayed her parents' trust in promising to take care of her siblings. What use had their hardships been?  
_

_They had endured years of nothing but uncomfortable conditions, helpless trauma, and near-death situations, and this was how it all would end? This? With some insane, criminally inclined man pointing a pistol at their chests? It was a fate that Violet had never considered. Good always triumphed over evil, right? But she realized now the truth in the words that her friend Fiona had spoken what seemed like light-years past: "People aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef's salads." There was no good for evil to triumph over, and philosophy seemed obsolete in this moment. They were not noble people, nor were they evil people: they were three very young, very scared children, who were about to die._

'_We're about to die,' thought Violet, 'we really are about to die. With so many secrets in our hearts- so many secrets we have yet to learn!'_

_And Klaus whispered the very words she had been thinking: "This is not our destiny." Violet felt a surge of pride rise up through her chest. Klaus, brave Klaus, loving Klaus, immensely clever Klaus, who would never, ever, let them go to their graves if it was not what was intended for them- and it wasn't_

_"This is not our destiny," he said louder. At this point, several of the guests had fainted, many were sobbing, several were attempting to exit the building, only to find the one exit blocked by Olaf's henchmen, and the other's were surveying the scene with shock and intense distress. But as Klaus uttered those words, every single head in the room turned towards him. "This is not our destiny, and nor is it yours, Olaf."_

_Olaf blanched pale and curled his lip in disgust. No doubt he felt as though he were once again holding a harpoon gun in a hotel lobby, when the very same thing had been said to him."Yes," he said quickly, "yes it is."_

_Klaus shook his head calmly. "No it's not, Olaf. You don't have to do this. You could lower the gun and you wouldn't have to go against your destiny."_

_"I am going to kill you three children right now," he declared, his voice rising slightly, and knuckles white on the pistol. "Right now, and then you'll all be dead. Dead. DEAD DEAD DEAD! Just the way you should be!"_

_Violet spoke now, struggling to keep her voice as strong as Klaus's. "Olaf, if you kill us now, how will you get our fortune? It's what your after, isn't it?"_

_The count uttered something that might be called a laugh and paused for a moment, shaking his head. The children were surprised to see that his eyes were glistening even brighter with the wetness of his own tears. "Don't you get it, you imbecilic orphans?" he cried, his voice hoarse and hysterical. "It's not about the fortune anymore! IT'S NOT ABOUT THE MONEY! IT'S ABOUT ME! ME! I have to kill you. I have to kill you so I can stop wasting away my life on you. I can't stop." He spoke the last few words at a whisper and trailed off into a paroxysm of shuddering gasps that was too pitiful to be called crying. _

_Klaus stepped forward and looked into Olaf's vulnerable, frightened, very confused eyes. "It's not your destiny," he repeated firmly._

_"Destiny," muttered Olaf. "Destiny, destiny, destiny, destiny..." he continued on muttering this word at such an increasingly fast pace that it eventually strung it's self into one phrase. "Destinydestinydestinydestinydestinydestinydesti- AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!" Olaf roared like a combination of an antagonized lion, and a very sick, very mentally embroiled man. He flung his arm out and the Baudelaire's ducked, causing the pistol to smash the window in back of them with a splitting crack followed by the sound of millions of glass particles separating themselves from the window frame and falling sustainedly to the ground several hundred feet below._

_Olaf turned around and surveyed the ballroom with wide, unseeing eyes. "Destinydestinydestiny," he still muttered under his breath. "Destiny, not my destiny, not mine, not mine, notminenotminenotmine..." He started to walk backwards, oblivious to the horrified stares of everyone around, and of the orphans in back of him. "Kill you, I'll kill you, but it's not my destiny, oh not mine, not mine, notminenotminenotmine..." Several of his associates saw what was happening from the door and a few exchanged glances and headed in his direction, but before they could reach him, the wide-eyed orphans had moved from his way in paralyzed confusion and he had reached the sill. "Not my destiny. No, not mine," he uttered calmly as his knees caught the sill and he tipped backward._

_He didn't seem to notice, but closed his eyes, the most peaceful looking that the Baudelaire's had ever seen him and tilted back his neck. It was the only momentum his body had needed to continue to let his back slide off the sill and his knees bump heavily on it as he tumbled backward out of the window. There was dead silence as his feet disappeared from view and everyone realized what had happened. Many shrieks and sobs ensued, including a horrified Esmé Squalor, in a dress made entirely from pinecones, running to the window and staring down as her boyfriend tumbled to the streets. "No!" she screamed, "NO! OLAF! OLAF!" before she sank to the ground in a jumble of pine needles and tears until she was escorted away by the police, no doubt called by the passers-by below._

_As Olaf's confederates were one by one taken into incarceration, the Baudelaire orphans stood on the sidelines as always, watching their world once again morph itself into something more bizarre and mutated than could possibly be allowable in such dire circumstances._


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Good God, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post this! I have been positively SWAMPED with random shit that seems to keep popping up. But here is your chappie, safe and sound – with another just about ready for posting. Review and I promise it will come sooner! This one's pretty much just an introductory to a few characters, giving you an idea of the setting, etc. etc., like the first chapter of most stories, so don't get all pissed because there's no plot yet, alright? I promise there will actually be one in this story, lol. Now read!

Violet stared out the window of her study into the dying sun over the Hinterlands. The bloodred sky engulfed the barren hills- still recovering from a terrible fire. Something creaked in back of her, and she jumped skittishly, turning quickly to see what it was. A moment of intense wariness followed, until she realized that it was simply her squeaky desk chair that had made the noise. Violet was very susceptible to strong paranoia, still not able to shake the feeling that she and her siblings were still being tailed by a number of despicable people. The study was quiet and Violet once again returned to her desk with a half-restored air of serenity.

Ever since the schism had ended and VFD had been reunited, there had been an awkward sense of peace all around. It was abnormal for anyone in the organization not to have to constantly be watchful for imposters or villains- directly at least. Of course there were still imposters and villains in the world, much too many, but none that were specifically targeted on them. Their next looming task was the restoration of the safe places, and Violet, Sunny, Klaus and Quigley had been moved to one of the first restored safe places in the Hinterlands. Now, they worked on separate projects, all exploiting each of their own skills to assist VFD in the greatest possible way. Violet was focused on the challenge of improving VFD's mechanisms, devices, and various other contrivances, in order to assure the continued functioning of the many there were, in the best possible condition. It was a great responsibility, but she knew that her mechanical knowledge was beyond that of most of the other members, and she did well at her job, setting her own hours to do something she enjoyed. Along with being together with her siblings, it was the best thing she could have asked for.

Suddenly, something patted her on the leg. Violet didn't jump this time- she knew the very touch of that hand too well. She looked down at the smiling face of her 3-year-old sister and lifted the child onto her lap. Sunny looked up at Violet's face and touched her cheek lightly.

"What's the matter?" Sunny asked in her meticulous toddler-esque speech.

Violet looked down at the rosy face of her sister, somewhat shadowed by the growing darkness, but still glowing with the mature compassion and interest that she'd always had. Her eyes shone with concern as she furrowed her delicate eyebrows.

"What's the matter, Violet?" she repeated.

Violet shook her head and pulled Sunny close in a loving embrace. "Nothing, baby, nothing. Don't worry. You don't have to worry ever again."

It was the biggest lie Violet spoke daily, but one of the most comforting. Of course there would be things to worry about – life was made up of conflicts, but Violet had promised herself, after the night of Olaf's death, that she would keep both of her younger siblings out of any danger that would come their way. She would deal with it herself, if she had to, but no matter what, Sunny and Klaus would never have to deal with more than they had already dealt with in their young lives.

She kissed Sunny on the top her head and set her back down on the ground, sure to steady her on her feet before letting go. Klaus poked his head into the study, smiling at the sight of his sisters.

"Anyone seen my map of underground Tokyo?" he asked.

Violet shook her head. Klaus had been working on the Tokyo project for months now, and was locked away in his own office for most of the day, along with Quigley who was co-working.

"Ask Quigley if he's seen it," she suggested.

It came to her then that she hadn't seen Quigley all day. It was not unusual for him to spend large portions of the day working with Klaus, but he generally made time to come see her at some point. Violet knew that Quigley cared for her a lot, and when he wasn't working, he was a hopeless romantic, but it was not unusual for Violet to feel more than a little ignored as he put his work on a pedestal. Next to her siblings, Quigley was the most cherished thing in Violet's life. He knew her too well, as two people almost always do after surviving such terrible ordeals together as Violet and Quigley had.

Klaus frowned and checked his watch. "I'll go find him, but I could've sworn I left it around here…" He walked out mumbling something about earthquake statistics.

Klaus's time check prompted Violet to glance at her own desk clock in surprise as she realized how late it had become. "Come on, Sunny, let's tuck you in," she said scooping the now yawning child up.

Violet carried Sunny up two flights of stairs to her bedroom and laid her on the soft flannel sheets lining her crib. As she kissed her on top of the head and went to leave the room, she shut off the light and viewed the room, now illuminated with the soft glow of Sunny's night-light. A couple years ago, she wouldn't have thought that she would ever be surveying the scene with such a feeling completely void of apprehension or anxiety. She wouldn't have been able to recall the feeling of peace or calm that was now embodied in her little sister's room.

She turned the knob and pulled the door shut noiselessly, and crossed the hall to her own bedroom. Violet opened the door, and instinctively reached for the light switch, before she found that it was already on. Again, that sense of wariness overcame her and she looked around the corner to where her bed was positioned. She let out a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders with relief as she saw Quigley sitting on her bed. She closed her eyes briefly and smiled.

Quigley smiled too, getting up. "'Evening, love," he said as she moved into his arms, smiling wearily.

She tilted her head up to look at him. "I miss you during the day," she whispered. He kissed her gently on the lips with a look of mixed sadness and adoration in his eyes.

"I know," he whispered back. "I'm sorry."

It was all he needed to say as Violet collapsed in his arms and he sat back down onto the heavily quilted bed. He cradled her exhausted body and stroked her hair rhythmically. Quigley knew how hard it was for her, and how much she'd endured, and he knew that she deserved all the comfort and refuge she received, so he tried as best he could to be sure that it was upheld.

"I'm tired, Quigley," she said hoarsely, the fatigue setting in only at the end of the day, as it always did. "I can never sleep at night, though… Stay with me."

Quigley said nothing. He laid her flat on the bed where she gazed up at him with jaded eyes. He stroked her cheek lightly and bent down to kiss her again. She responded gently, warning him not to get carried away, but ran her fingers through his hair, the softness of his shaggy brown mane soothing her further. He was such a soft person in general. His hair, his skin, his eyes, even his personality was of the most velvety gentleness and the one thing Violet found of ultimate comfort was the presence of soft and soothing things.

A moment later, Quigley lay down next to her and wrapped an arm around her delicate form to pull her closer. "Stay with me, please," she begged in a fading murmur.

"Of course, Violet," he breathed into her ear, "of course I'll stay with you."

He watched as she drifted off into sleep within seconds; her face serene with just a hint of dolor plaguing it's delightfully sharp features. Quigley sat up and undid the worn ribbon that held up her hair- the same ribbon, still, that she'd worn when he met her. He smiled at it, a rare wave of nostalgia washing over him and set it on her bedside table. Quigley looked around the room, with it's high ceilings and white oak theme and knew that this was where Violet belonged. It was her humble palace, her heavenly edifice, and he knew also that it did not receive him well. Not him, with his crude imperfections, so undeserving of the love he knew he had from Violet. She was nothing less than a fairy princess and the incredible ideality of her abode forced him out, knowing of his disgraceful faults. He couldn't spend too long within it because it was just too much of _her_ embodied in it. As soon as she knew that this was home, and that this was her solid ground of stability, she'd cemented that, and poured the essence of her soul into the personal space she'd never had. Her goodness burned his tainted soul until he fled. Intimacy of any sort was wordlessly reserved for _his_ room, for all the evils of his spirit contained in it didn't seem to bother her, protected by the glow of purity surrounding her. He had waited that night until he saw her go into Sunny's room to enter Violet's, because he knew he wouldn't be able to stay long without that searing guilt emerging. Careful not to disturb Violet, he got out of the bed, planted one last kiss on her cheek, and exited the room quickly, leaving her lying alone and dreaming of him.


	3. Chapter 2

Violet stumbled down the stairs, a pink linen bathrobe wrapped around her, and her hair up in a matching towel. Even after her morning shower, she still wasn't fully awake. She felt the scent of pancakes usher her into the kitchen as she saw her sister seated atop an especially high-legged chair like it was her throne. Even through trying to restore some sense of "normality" to their family, the one thing Sunny couldn't leave behind was her love for all things culinary. When they had moved into the Safe Place, they had come to a compromise: that Sunny would be allowed to cook one meal every day for them. They had built her the high-legged chair to ensure her safety while cooking, and had made several alterations to the kitchen to accommodate her.

Sunny was flipping pancakes in a frying pan, critically scrutinizing their golden brown color with perfectly furrowed eyebrows. She saw Violet, reached over to turn the temperature on the burner to low, and reached out her arms for a hug. Violet scooped her up and nuzzled her cheek as Sunny squealed with delight. "Pancakes, I see, little Miss Chef," she said with a wink.

Sunny grinned as Violet set her back on the chair. "Specialty," she said proudly.

"Mm, I know," replied Violet, licking her lips and heading for the table where Quigley greeted her with a kiss and a cup of coffee- one sugar, no cream. She sat down heavily at the table, just as Klaus bounded in holding a piece of paper. He stopped abruptly, breathing heavily as though he'd ran across the house, and grinning widely.

Violet raised an eyebrow. "Well someone's got a little too much energy for this time of morning."

Klaus ignored the quip and strode over to the table, thrusting the piece of paper at Violet and Quigley. "Duncan and Isadora are coming," he said matter-of-factly.

Violet gasped and grabbed the bit of paper. "Did this come in the morning telegram?"

"Just now," he replied, pouring himself some orange juice. Klaus didn't drink coffee. As though prompted, he reached over to take a platter of perfectly browned pancakes from Sunny's waiting arms.

"Breakfast," she stated and hopped off her chair to bring syrup and butter to the table.

Violet and Quigley were still in a flurry about the news of the visit. "Sunny, Isadora and Duncan are coming to visit!" Violet told her, taking the syrup to place at the center of the table.

Sunny's face lit up at the familiar names. "Isadora?" she asked. "Duncan?"

"Mmhm," Quigley said, his mouth filled with pancakes. He swallowed and continued. "Their coming later today! I'm not sure how long their staying…at least for the weekend, I'm sure."

Violet looked up from buttering her pancake to see Klaus staring out the window, his eyes downcast and clearly distracted. She knew what he was dwelling on. She got up and walked over to him. "Any word from Fiona?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Klaus shook his head, and she knew he was fighting back any signs of distress. He tried so hard to be strong, but it was apparent that he was distraught by the lack of communication from Fiona. She had been sent on a job by VFD that required her knowledge of submarines. After her departure, they had gotten one brief telegram from her, and had not heard from her in many months. "Six months today," he whispered, as though knowing what she was thinking.

Violet bit her lip. She knew that Klaus waited everyday for a telegram. VFD had in fact declared Fiona a missing person at this point. She had received the telegram stating this about two months ago. She had torn it up and thrown it away before Klaus could see it.

There were teams out searching for her, but no word had been sent yet, and until it was, Violet had no intention of alerting Klaus to Fiona's official status. He cared too much for her to be sure that he wouldn't do anything rash. After the schism had ended, and Fiona had made her position in VFD official, she and Klaus had gone "public" with their blossoming relationship. They had everything in common, and could relate eerily well to one another- they were the perfect couple. But duty was priority for both of them, and they had said the difficult good byes with a strong façade. It was a front that stuck with Klaus through the time she was gone, but Violet heard the muffled cries from his room at night, as he dreamed of his sweetheart drifting helplessly through icy waters.

"She'll come back Klaus," Violet whispered. "Don't worry." There it was again. That sweet encouragement by the promise of a carefree existence. But Klaus knew what she meant. He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them with a smile. "I'm hungry," he said, heading toward the table. This falsely happy Klaus was the one they had come to know in the past months, and Violet felt a strange comfort from knowing he still had the strength, at least, to pretend.

After breakfast, they went their separate ways: Sunny to play cards with Violet, and Klaus and Quigley to hole themselves up in a study again, poring over intricate maps until lunchtime. Violet had barely finished dealing for a game of Go Fish, when there was a tentative knock at the door. With Sunny trailing after her, Violet made her way to the front door and peeped through the window to see who it was. A woman with a baby carrier stood on her front step looking slightly nervous.

"Kit!" Violet exclaimed, throwing open the door.

Kit had given birth to her baby son, Ethan Adam, the same day that Fiona had left on the submarine, so the baby held mixed feelings of happiness and longing, especially for Klaus. But seeing the chubby pink face that peeked out from the green blankets of his carrier brought only joy to Violet. Kit had only flourished after giving birth, both emotionally and physically, and she was now, while still well figured, pleasantly plump, which suited her round face well. Her freckled skin was tanned and glowing, as were her beaming blue eyes that perfectly matched those of her son. She tucked a strand of sandy hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear and stepped over the threshold of the house.

"I hope this isn't a bad time, because I thought about calling first, or at least sending a telegram, but I was in such a rush-"

Violet cut her off. "Kit, you know there is never a bad time for us to see you and the baby." She bent down to the carrier and ran a finger over his perfectly smooth, rosy cheek. "What a sweetie," she cooed as the baby gurgled and smiled. "Little Ethan….what a handsome boy!" She stood again and offered her hand for Kit's coat. "Wow, I haven't seen him since he was, what, a month? Gosh, he's grown! He looks real healthy though."

Kit's proud mother smile over-rode her constant look of cautious anxiety, as she pulled back some of the blankets, exposing a full head of baby-fine, white blonde hair that she stroked lovingly. "Mm, he is. I was so worried when it happened-" Her look of nervousness returned. "because of course what with all that was happening while I was pregnant, all the stress, not to mention physical exhaustion…but I guess it turned out fine."

Violet took the baby carrier and set it on the kitchen table. "I'll say it did, Kit. You're a fantastic mother."

Kit smiled with genuine gratitude. "You're an angel Vi, really. I don't know what I would have done without you, what with the schism and the relocation and D-" She stopped short. Violet knew whose name she had nearly uttered, and though she wanted to tell Kit that she shouldn't have to worry about saying his name around people, she knew that Kit would come to accept it in her own time, even if it took years. Kit was a truly strong woman. She continued, abandoning the previous topic for a lighter one. "So, I assume you got the news about Duncan and Isadora!"

"Ooh, yes we did! I can't tell you how thrilled I am to finally see them again!"

"Duncan!" squealed Sunny from on the table where she had been leaning over the baby carrier. "See Duncan and Isadora!"

Kit laughed and lifted her in the air. "Yes, Miss Sunny, and I suppose you're excited too?"

Sunny giggled and Kit placed her maternally on her hip. "Where are the men of this house?" Kit asked.

Violet rolled her eyes. "Ugh, off in a study somewhere adding millimeters at a time to miles of paper, where else? I should find them though. They'll want to see the baby, and then it's off to the store for them. I'm thinking of making pasta for 'Dora and Duncan tonight."

Kit nodded approvingly. Just then, the two guys skidded into the kitchen simultaneously, provoking many hugs and coos over baby Ethan.

"How have you been, Kit?" asked Quigley. "Looking lovely, I see," he added with a wink.

Kit blushed, even at this playful teasing and smiled slightly. "I've been alright. The relocation was tough at first, but the Island is so beautiful. I was lucky to finally get over here though! The water's been terrible and stormy for the past few days. I had to hop over here before it stirred up again!"

"Ah yes," said Klaus with a nod, "Life on the brilliant Island. How's the weather over there anyway?"

Violet could tell that Kit couldn't resist bragging the tiniest bit when provoked with such an obvious question. "Ooh, it's beautiful. Clear skies all the time, hardly any rain- but like I said, the water gets stormy sometimes… It's brilliantly warm though; nice for the baby."

Klaus rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, of course, life in paradise is always perfect…" He turned away slightly. "Cocky," he added in a teasing undertone, then flashed a smile to let her know he was only joking.

Kit gasped and pretended to be scandalized. "Well excuse me if I couldn't refuse the offer to relocate to the most gorgeous manmade tropical island in the area! Not to mention the latest Safe Place. Just doing my duty to VFD."

"Hey, hey, break it up," commanded Violet. "You," she pointed to Klaus, "and you," she pointed to Quigley, "are doing a little shopping trip for supper tonight. Pesto sauce and angel hair, go." She pushed them both toward the door.

"See you, Kit!" shouted Quigley over his shoulder. She laughed and waved as she sat down at the table. Violet closed the door behind them and dusted off her hands. "Well now that they're out of the way…"

She smiled coyly and sat across from Kit. On a second thought, she got up. "I'll make some tea, what kind do you like?"

"Earl Grey is fine, I know you like it."

On her way to the sink she placed the baby carrier on the floor and Sunny next to it. "Here honey, you can play with Ethan while Auntie Kit and I talk."

Violet ran water into a kettle. Over the running water, Kit asked, "So how are you and Quigley?" with a slightly teasing tone in her voice.

Violet shot her a reproving look but smiled involuntarily. "We're…good. He's locked away in his study a lot though… I don't get to see him as much as I used to. Mostly just at night." She placed the kettle on the stove and sat back down at the table.

Kit raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "What's _that_ supposed to imply, Violet?"

Violet blushed violently. "No! That's not what I- well I mean, that's not to say- oh Kit! You know what I meant!"

Kit threw her head back and laughed for a moment, then took Violet's hand. "Vi, honey, I'm just teasing. What you and Quigley do behind closed doors-" there was that sly smile again "-is none of my business. I understand, hon."

Violet broke out of her embarrassed flurry as the tea kettle whined loudly from the stove. This time Kit jumped up to retrieve the boiling water from the burner and pour it into two mugs as Violet reached to the back of the cabinet for a jar filled with round tea bags. "My secret stash." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Ooh, what an honor," teased Kit, popping one of the tea bags into her mug. Armed with spoons, they returned to the table, stirring absentmindedly.

After a pause, Violet spoke. "How's your own love life, missy?" She knew she was taking an immeasurable risk even bringing up the topic, and bit her lip as Kit stared down into her mug for a moment.

"I…I just don't' know, Violet." She looked up, her eyes already wet with tears. "It just like…like I look at men, and _every one_ of them reminds me of….of Dewey." It was like something broke loose inside of her after speaking the name that had become taboo since his death. She continued. "Yet, I know that none of them will ever be anything like him…at all. I can see someone and say to myself, 'my, that man's good looking' or meet someone and say 'oh, they're charming, then' but I feel like any kind of attraction is impossible. I just can't love- hell, I can't even bring myself to _like_ anyone else!" She paused again, breathing heavily as tears streamed freely down her face. Sunny had looked up from a now sleeping baby Ethan and walked over to pat Kit's knee and hold up her arms. Kit smiled sadly and scooped her onto her lap before continuing. "I know it sounds stupid-"

Violet interrupted her. "Kit," she said firmly, "you are _not_ stupid, no matter what you think. Nothing you're saying or thinking or doing is stupid _at all._ You have been through _so much_ and – and you have a _baby_, Kit, a baby! You have been so… so _impossibly_ strong, do you realize that? You are the most wonderfully brave woman I have ever had the _privilege_ to befriend. And I'm always here for you, you know that. You're beautiful, Kit. You're an honor to VFD, and to anyone who knows you and knows everything you've gone through in your life. You've been an amazing, if rather strange, combination of a mother and a friend to me ever since we met, and I truly don't know what I'd do without you."

Violet eyes were welling with tears now too, and the two women stood to embrace across the table. Violet sat back down and took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. "Well," she said with somewhat wearied happiness. "After that…"

Kit smiled and pulled a tissue out of her pocket, as though she had been carrying them around for incidents like this. She dabbed her eyes and took a sip of her now thoroughly brewed tea. Suddenly she stiffened for a moment and then set her tea down heavily. After swallowing quickly, she exclaimed, "Oh my God, Violet, I almost forgot!"

Violet almost choked. "What!" she asked, leaning forward, eyes wide with concern.

Kit calmed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just, I just remembered something I had to tell you."

Violet gave a quizzical look, and motioned for Kit to go on. Kit leaned in closer. "Well, you know I visited with Frank and he told me some things about changes coming up for the Volunteers."

Violet's eyes turned from confusion to wariness. "What _sort_ of changes?" she asked slowly.

"Some… replacements."

"What does _that_ meant?"

"Well…he said that the Safe Places are going through some different alterations concerning their occupants and what's best for everyone…I'm not sure, I mean, he pretty much babbled on for a bit, and but I got most of it and…okay, I really don't mean to worry you," she said, noticing the look in Violet's eyes. "Really. I'm just warning you. I'm almost positive that it won't affect you – seriously I don't even know if it's going to happen. But I just thought you should know… just in case."

Violet nodded slowly, slightly troubled, but trying desperately to keep her mind free of worry. "It's not going to happen," she told herself. "It's no big deal." She looked to Kit and smiled tightly. "Thanks…for telling me, Kit. I appreciate it."

She hoped that Kit couldn't see the true burden she felt on her mind. If anything were to separate her from any of the people she cared about, she wasn't sure she'd be able to continue with her work. They were what kept her going everyday. She forced herself not to think on this, as Kit looked over at her sleeping son.

She bit her lip, looking torn. "Ugh, maybe I should go…it's just so hard to get him to sleep again, I'm afraid if he wakes up here, he won't fall asleep back home…"

Violet nodded in agreement. "That's right, better get him home while he's still sleeping."

Kit carefully picked up the carrier, wincing as the baby stirred, but he didn't wake. She hugged Violet tightly and smiled as she opened the door and slipped out. Violet watched her walk down the path until she disappeared down the hill that the walkway ran along. Then she turned away and picked up the mugs from the tables. Just then, the door reopened and Violet turned to see Klaus and Quigley coming through the door, each holding a paper bag.

Klaus set his down on the table and pulled out two jars of pale green sauce. "Pesto," he said. Next, came a large loaf of French bread from Quigley's bag. "Bread – essential," he confirmed. "Angel hair," said Klaus, pulling several boxes from his bag. "And some lettuce," finished off Quigley, pulling the final item from the bags. "For a salad."

Violet nodded with approval. "Good job, boys. Now get in the kitchen." She pointed to the kitchen, raising an eyebrow.

Klaus and Quigley grumbled, but Quigley managed to snatch a kiss before she gave him a mockingly condescending look and left the room, leaving Sunny to help with the cooking.

She went back up to her study to look over some sketches without the true intention of actually working on anything. She wondered how Duncan and Isadora would be. She hadn't seen them in almost a year. It seemed ages ago that they had first met, both coming from the most unfortunate of situations, and becoming so united instantly forming that connection. It had been incredible, now that she thought about it. The trust had always stayed between them, and she counted on that trust now, to be sure that they hadn't changed.

She lounged about for a while, the aroma of Italian cooking gradually wafting up the stairs as she napped on and off, taking advantage of this vacant time slot. She hadn't slept well the night before, and she knew that Quigley had left her during the night. It didn't comfort her, but she felt guilty plaguing him with her problems. She knew he didn't mind, but she worried so often about the past causing a rift between them, but so far the future had prevailed over both of them.

Suddenly she was snapped out of a wearied stupor by voices from downstairs:

"Hello? We're here!"


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I haven't update this in over a year, I know, it's ridiculous. I'm sorry to all of you who have been waiting for this and I promise I'll update more often. I'm back into this story and I look forward to working on it more. Thanks to all of you who reviewed while this was basically on hiatus! Keep reviewing, you guys are terrific.

One more note: I haven't yet read the last ASoUE book. I know, I know, it's awful, but I can't bring myself to accept that the series has ended. So if anything in this story contradicts information from The End, I'm terribly sorry.

The sound of her friends' voices jolted Violet out of her pensive state. She glanced at her reflection in the glass of her study door, straightened her ribbon and smoothed her hair, before pausing to wonder why she'd done that. She rarely cared what she looked like around such close friends. The feeling lasted only a moment before she brushed it off and hurried down the stairs.

The scene in the entryway was close to chaos. Klaus was taking several boxes from Isadora as Duncan tried to carry a conversation with him and simultaneously with Sunny who had latched onto his ankle. Quigley now had Isadora in an embrace that lifted her off the floor, and she shrieked upon seeing Violet and struggled out of Quigley's arms, as he turned to his brother who was trying to partake in a three conversations at once now and gather his luggage at the same time. Violet and Isadora rushed into tight hug, their breathing fractured through tears.

The Quagmires had been such an important part of everything that defined the Baudelaires lives, and it had been extremely emotional when they'd been separated. Telegrams could only bring them so close, and now, to actually be in the same room as their most beloved companions was nearly overwhelming.

Isadora pulled away and held Violet at arms length. She smiled through her tears. "You're so beautiful, Vi."

Violet let out a choked laugh and both women dissolved into giggles, and fell to their knees, accompanied by more tears at their nonsensicality. The rest of the family came to join them in the hallway between kitchen and foyer. Violet got up, not bothering to wipe her eyes and was immediately swept up by Duncan who twirled her in a circle before putting her down for a proper embrace. She kept her arms tight around his neck and breathed the fresh scent against his shoulder, the one that always reminded her of new snow.

She was about a head shorter than Duncan and so she craned her neck upwards to look at him. She didn't speak at first, just patted him maternally on the cheek with a smile.

"Hello Ms. Baudelaire," Duncan said in an exaggeratedly formal tone. Even though he and Quigley were identical, the differences were apparent. Duncan was more confident and held himself very purposefully. When he spoke, it was very matter-of-fact, and in a much deeper tone. This self-assured nature had annoyed Violet on several occasions but she eventually resigned herself to the fact that she'd have to accept Duncan as he was. Of course, she loved all the triplets dearly, and especially now she found it easy to look past any flaws she might have previously dwelled on.

Instead of responding, Violet just stared into his eyes for a moment, hoping that her scrutinizing gaze could convey some of the pure, unspoken emotion she was feeling. Talking to Duncan had always been more difficult. Violet felt like he knew too much about her that she'd never told anyone. He read her thoughts like a newspaper article, never commenting on what he learned, hoarding the knowledge and speaking it back to her only the gazes like that one he held her in now.

The stare finally broke and the pair rejoined the happy jumble of greetings still going on around them. "Presents!" cried Isadora, "We have presents!"

"Not now, not now!" insisted Duncan, "Let's wait until after dinner."

"Is this all your luggage?" asked Klaus, "Let me bring it upstairs."

Violet interrupted, "No, no, let me. We have the guest bedroom all ready for you. I hope it's okay that you're sharing a room, we felt bad putting one of you on the couch, and there's already two beds – "

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine," Isadora interjected with a wave of her hand. "We've endured much worse, fear not."

There was a laugh all around and the party moved to the kitchen where spaghetti had already been placed in a steaming heap on a platter in the middle of the long oak table. A tureen of pesto sauce and a bowl of freshly grated parmesan shouldered the pasta. As everyone took their seats, Violet nipped into the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher.

"Now, I know it's not traditional with pasta, but lemon iced tea happens to be Klaus's specialty-"

Klaus took a bow and Isadora applauded.

"- so I thought we might all humor him."

Laughter again from around the table as the pitcher was passed and everyone filled their glasses with the sweet smelling drink. Violet sat down next to Sunny and across from Duncan who was seated next to his sister. Klaus headed the table at one end Quigley at the other, who looked positively ecstatic to have his siblings with him again.

The conversation over dinner started with Duncan and Isadora insisting upon hearing the details of everyone else's life. Together, the Baudelaires and Quigley gave the gist of what they'd been up in the absence of the other two Quagmires.

"But now, let's talk about you," demanded Klaus.

Isadora and Duncan glanced at each other, as though trying to decide where to start.

"Life is busy," Isadora started. "But it's fun being right in Headquarters. There's lots to do and you get used to the constant activity. You meet so many great people. Um, let's see, we recently began – "

"Isadora's got a boyfriend," Duncan interrupted in a sing-song voice and immediately ducked to his right as though anticipating the blow that came sure enough when Isadora realized what he'd said.

"Duncan!" she shrieked, "I told you I would tell them when I was ready!"

"I'm sorry! Mercy, mercy!" he cried as she continued to pummel his shoulder. "Can I claim sanctuary from the Baudelaires? Sanctuary!"

"Wait, wait!" shouted Violet to break up the fight, "Tell us about him, 'Dora. I'm curious."

Resigned to her secret being revealed, Isadora sighed but smiled. "He's in VFD doing cartography, just like you two, and he was in Germany during the schism but now he's stationed at headquarters like us."

"So we don't even get a name?" teased Klaus.

"Oh, you shut up. His name is Hansel."

"Just checking."

"We call her Gretel," added Duncan.

"Weren't Hansel and Gretel brother and sister?"

Quigley snorted into his iced tea and Violet shook her head with a smile. "Be careful, we have virgin ears amongst us."

"You mean, you and Quigley haven't- "

"I meant Sunny!" Violet loudly clarified with an exasperated grin. "Now, how about a little PG conversation."

Quigley nodded. "Yeah, Duncan, let's hear about your love life, that ought to tone things down."

Duncan aimed a friendly punch at Quigley who dodged out of the way. "Maybe I just haven't found the right girl yet, is that such a problem? Come on, I'm just eighteen, I don't need to be settling down quite yet."

Klaus raised his glass. "Well said. Here's to the single life."

Klaus and Duncan tipped their glasses at each other and Violet couldn't help but feel a little sad. She knew that Klaus would be singing a different tune if Fiona hadn't left. His façade continued, fooling everyone around the table, except for her.

Violet felt Quigley's hand brush her knee and smiled vaguely as she recommenced twirling her pasta. With a jolt she realized that both Quigley's hands were occupied eating his own pasta. And someone's fingers were still trailing along her left leg. Her eyes swung magnetically to Duncan who looked back innocently but made no motion to bring his left arm above table.

Violet jerked her leg out of his reach and didn't look at him again through the meal.

Later, as Violet helped Isadora bring luggage upstairs to the guest bedroom, she could hardly focus beneath the distraction of the swift realization she'd had just an hour before.

"Something wrong, Vi?" questioned Isadora nonchalantly.

Violet shook her head. "No, just overwhelmed. I'm so happy you and Duncan are here."

Isadora rubbed her back in passing as she crossed the room to hang some clothes in the closet. "We're delighted to be here, really Violet, more than you know. Headquarters is great, but I hate being away from you all. Both of us do."

She moved to the other side of the room and began unpacking for Duncan, placing all his neatly folded shirts in the dresser. "I might as well," Isadora muttered, more to herself, "or it'll never get done."

"Do you need any help up here?" asked Violet.

"No, I think we're good. Thanks so much for everything, Vi. I'm exhausted too, I'll probably head to bed as soon as I'm done unpacking."

"Alright, goodnight 'Dora."

"'Night sweetie."

Violet closed the door behind her and headed down the dark hallway to her own room. Klaus was putting Sunny to bed after a movie and she felt drained after the everything that had happened that day.

Just as she turned the corner to her bedroom door, she stepped directly into the path of a shadowy figure. "Quigley?" she whispered.

The figure approached and she saw that it was Duncan.

"Good evening," he greeted her.

"Oh," was the only response Violet could come up with.

She made to shuffle past into her room, but stopped at the door. She looked at Duncan's retreating back and suddenly felt angry. He had no right to act like he had and then be so indifferent about it. Didn't he realize what he'd done to her?

"Duncan!" she called firmly.

He scurried back to her side with a smile. "Yes, Madame?" His smile quickly went away when he saw the anger in her face.

She stepped toward him so that he was against the wall on the other side of the hallway. "What you did at dinner tonight was entirely inappropriate. I could have slapped you."

Duncan looked down and then back at Violet. "I know. I'm sorry. Truly. It wasn't my place to do something like that without your consent."

"Without my consent! It wasn't your place to do that _ever_! If Quigley knew- "

"If Quigley knew, he'd probably laugh, he'd think it was a joke."

"I love your brother, and if you think that's going to change, don't count on it."

"Violet, you're acting like I violated you! I touched your leg, and I'm sorry it upset you. Don't make this into more than it is."

Violet took a deep breath. Maybe she was over-reacting. But he had brought this upon himself, the other side of her argued. Violet pushed these thoughts aside.

"Let's just forget about it, okay? I care about you a lot Duncan and I know you care about me. Just… don't misconstrue those feelings. Promise."

After a pause, he solemnly replied. "I promise."

Violet wrapped her arms around him in a brief but tight embrace. Then hurried into her room. She dropped backwards onto her bed and sprawled herself across the white quilt. For the second night in a row she fell asleep in her clothes.

When Quigley came in later that night to say goodnight, he removed her ribbon for her and watched her sleep for a moment before gladly rushing off to his own room for a more fitful sleep than she would ever know.


End file.
